


Denial Isn't Just a River in Egypt

by Cinder



Category: Selfie (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 20:02:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2441222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinder/pseuds/Cinder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry tries to figure out why he was so worried when Eliza was in the hospital. This could lead to him discovering what Eliza really means to him...or maybe he'll just deny that he even has feelings. </p><p>Probably the second option.</p><p>*</p><p>This was inspired by a Tumblr prompt from boniferhasty, who wanted to see Henry either acknowledging or denying that he has a crush on Eliza. (I tried to give them a little bit of both).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Denial Isn't Just a River in Egypt

Okay, so Eliza wasn’t dying. 

Henry sat his favorite chair, absently turning his cell phone over and over. He had 25 minutes before he had to make his next call to Eliza, to wake her up again and make sure the concussion hadn’t done any permanent damage. 

Honestly, he felt silly now. Of course Eliza hadn’t been in any serious danger when she had arrived at the hospital - she had been well enough to post to Facebook, hadn’t she? That hadn’t been much consolation on the drive over to the hospital, though. Eliza had once remarked that if she was found dead, she wanted to be found dead with her cell phone, so she could use the Internet in heaven. It had been just a joke, but it had kept flashing through Henry’s head when he had been stuck in traffic, fingers drumming the wheel and nerves on edge. 

And when he had found her in the hospital room: bruised and with broken bones. She had been in good spirits, but he still couldn’t help but feel horrified when he looked at her. She looked so... He rooted for the right word. It wasn’t “fragile”, after all, what fragile person looked so happy after falling down a manhole? And it wasn’t “weak”, she had been her same resilient self. Sweet? Was it possible to call someone “sweet” after they had just injured themselves badly enough to “see the white light”? 

Nothing seemed to dampen Eliza’s spirits. She had been her same feisty, happy self. Yes, then, “sweet” seemed to work. She had been sitting in the hospital bed, grinning while one leg was in an air cast and her pelvis was fracture. In that moment, he wanted very much to help and protect her, even though she clearly was capable of taking care of herself. That was his job, after all, helping her. Even if she never listened to his help.

He supposed that wasn’t really true - she had taken his advice on Freddy. And what a genesis he was to give that advice. Now Eliza was even more entranced with Freddy, the lumbering, arrogant... Henry shook his head. Freddy had been...mildly kind to take Eliza home. Sure, he shouldn’t have made that “booty” joke (like Eliza had really found that funny) but otherwise Freddy hadn’t been too awful. 

Henry got up from his chair, going to make himself a cup of tea. Normally it soothed him, allowed him to calm down when he get too anxious about a work project. But it didn’t seem to be working tonight. He burnt his hand when pouring the water, he couldn’t find his favorite flavor, and the string of the tea bag fell right into the steaming cup. Disgusted and irritated, Herny eventually pitched the entire thing right into the trash. 

His concentration was so shot that eventually Henry found himself absently pacing his house, still turning his cell phone in his hand. He’d like to attribute some of his unease to the events of his confusion with Facebook, that horrible website. But whenever he tried to focus on the site, his attention went back to Eliza. 

Maybe, despite his best judgement, he was becoming friends with Eliza. It would explain why he had rushed to her hospital room. It would explain why he had been so pained upon seeing her injuries. It would explain why he didn’t like Freddy. 

Of course. Henry felt himself stop his pacing. Of course he was worried for Eliza, as friends should be. After all, Freddy could possibly be a disaster for Eliza - she had the worst taste in men, as previous experience showed - and she might get her heart broken this time as well. Henry had every right to be worried about Eliza, happily giving her heart to a man who would just take advantage of her. Who would look indecently upon her in those boots that clung to her legs; the cherry red hair that would tumble down, framing her face; who would look as she squeezed her body into a tight dress -

Henry shook his head harshly. Friends shouldn’t have those types of thoughts about one another. It was one thing to worry that Eliza would be taken advantage of for her physical appearance, and that Freddy wouldn’t appreciate the heart that lay within. It was another thing to go into deep detail about that physical appearance. 

Just as Henry was about to go deeper into thought, his phone chirped. Its alarm went off as it reminded Henry to call Eliza. His head still full off confusion over the Freddy situation, he absentmindedly dialed Eliza’s number.

“Hello?” Her sleepy voice came over the phone, drawing him back into the moment.

“How are you Eliza?” He asked, trying to analyze her voice for any sign that she was in pain.

“Tired. Some inconsiderate jerk keeps calling me every hour.” She replied cheerfully.

“Ah. Well, maybe that jerk is just trying to make sure you don’t die.” Henry said, playing along.

Eliza gave a huge yawn. “Thank you, jerk.” 

“It’s my pleasure, Eliza.”

“Yeah, it’s a ‘pleasure’ to stay up all night.” Eliza said skeptically. “At least I don’t have to go to work tomorrow. You on the other hand...”

“I will be fine.”

“You could just take a day off of work.”

“I’ll call you in an hour.”

“Dude, they aren’t going to fire you for being gone for one little day. I’ve taken, like, a million days off...”

“Pleasant dreams, Eliza.” He said. 

“Pleasant dreams to you too, jerk.” She said. She yawned again. “For an hour, at least...”

Henry hung up, resetting his alarm so he would know to call Eliza in an hour. As he did so, he began to walk towards his bedroom. Maybe an hour of sleep would be nice. Clearly he wasn’t in his right mind if he was having fantasies - no, images he was having images, not fantasies - about Eliza. And how appealing she might be to Freddy. But only to Freddy.

*

“Hey Henry!”

Henry, who had been dozing off over his work, jerked his head up. 

“Eliza?” He stared at her in surprise as she cheerfully pranced into the office. “Eliza, what are you doing here?” He was surprised to see that instead of flopping down on the couch like she normally did, Eliza made a beeline straight for his desk. 

“This is where I work, duh.” Eliza sat down on his desk, gently swinging her legs. Every few seconds one of her calves would come into his line of sight. “And I visit you like, five times a day.”

“Eliza, you should be home resting. You were in the hospital yesterday.” Henry said. Suddenly something occurred to him as Eliza’s left calf sprang into view again. “And what happened to your air cast?” 

“My what?” Eliza giggled.

“Your air cast.” Eliza continued to look at him blankly. He felt himself getting irritated. “Eliza, this isn’t funny! You could be seriously hurt -” Henry was cut off when Eliza slid from his desk into his lap. “Eliza?”

“You know, I thought it was so sweet that you called me all last night.” She said, her voice getting lower. “And I thought I should come say thank-you.”

“I would have thought you’d be busy saying thank-you to Freddy.” Henry said, clutching his armrests and trying not to focus on how close Eliza’s body was. 

“Freddy’s an okay guy.” Eliza leaned forward until her face was right over his. “But you’re really special.” And then she lowered her mouth to his.

*

The phone’s alarm blared, waking Henry up from his dream. 

He looked around his room, down at his phone, and around his room again. Once he had totally confirmed that he was in his house, and not about to get kissed a very enthusiastic Eliza, he slumped back in his bed. 

“Shit.”

People had dreams about their friends making out with them all the time, right? 

It didn’t mean anything. Not at all. He was certain of it.

Mostly.


End file.
